


Blood Magic

by VoidofRoses



Series: Recovery [7]
Category: Legend of the Three Caballeros (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, or Grandpa Fergus, t3Cs found the Knights Templar treasure and Donald never told Uncle Scrooge, warning for blood but not too descriptive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-08 02:37:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15921136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VoidofRoses/pseuds/VoidofRoses
Summary: “If you have to ask yourself the question, my dear Xandra, the answer is always blood magic.”





	Blood Magic

**Author's Note:**

> a tumblr prompt that turned into the next part. I extended and edited it a bit from what I put on my tumblr @pansexualpanchito :)

“If you have to ask yourself the question, my dear Xandra, the answer is always blood magic.”

“We’re not teaching him blood magic, José!” The goddess huffed and crossed her arms, looking at the catacombs around them. “There’s got to be a better way out of this.”

It was Donald’s first time back in the field since being possessed by Felldrake months ago, and they’d been exploring some Druid ruins in Scotland when they’d become trapped in a maze underneath the castle on the Isle of Skye. José and Xandra had been arguing the whole time about the best way to trigger the escape route, after the former had mistakenly read the inscriptions in _Irish_ Gaelic and caused the room to start closing in.

For someone who claimed to be good with languages, this was the second time José had gotten them into trouble.

Panchito had his back to one of the walls once it stopped moving, feet dug in just in case it decided to start again (as if he could stop it even with his considerable strength), while Donald himself paced, trying in vain not to panic. His fingers dug into the flannel shirt that he wore, shivering slightly despite himself. The catacombs were old, covered with moss and freezing like his grandparent’s castle in Dismal Downs where they’d been staying up until the actual exploration.

José and Xandra, meanwhile, kept arguing about the best technique and magic to aid in their escape, the parrot having already separated the handle of his umbrella from the staff to reveal a knife and was indicating the runes that backed up his theory while Xandra rapped her knuckles against the wall, shaking her head at him.

“ _The ruins respond to McDuck blood_ ,” Granny Downy has said to him before they left that morning, her hand in the middle of his back before she pushed him on. Grandpa Fergus had scoffed and said “codswallop!”

Eyeing the runes, Donald pursed his beak together before holding his hand out. “Give me the knife.”

If he saw José smile smugly at Xandra out the corner of his eye, he didn’t comment, the parrot handing him the dagger while poking his tongue out at the goddess, who just fumed. Donald looked down at it, before pressing the blade to his free hand with a bit of a cringe, slicing his palm open. Blood ran freely from the wound, not fast enough to cause alarm but enough that there was a substantial amount that stained his feathers, and he reached to press his fingers against the five points, a warm blue-purple glow coming from his hand and eyes.

“ _Fosgail a-nis, doras òir. Nochdadh fortan air an fheadhainn a tha ga iarraidh_.”

Don’t ask Donald how he knew the right words to speak in Gaelic, because he hadn’t been around native speakers since his days as a boy running around Uncle Scrooge’s mansion, and even then he’d only learned swear words. His feathers fluttered in the air, hearing ‘oohs’ from Panchito as the other three looked on in fascination. Whether it was the words or the McDuck blood from his mother Hortense running through his veins, the catacombs rumbled, his blood seeping into the wall and running along, connecting the runes one by one.

The wall shuddered, then lowered itself with creaking groans of gears long left to sit and rust. Xandra clicked her fingers and took hold of his bleeding hand as a bandage and some gauze appeared in her other one, taking the knife and handing it back to José, who wiped it with a handkerchief and looked at him proudly.

They’d found the Knight’s Templar treasure.

“How did you figure it out, Donald?” Xandra asked softly, ignoring the smug look on José’s face as the parrot and rooster went ahead of them while she knelt, winding the bandage around his hand that she cradled gently in hers. “You know blood magic is…well, it’s…”

“Not clean?” Donald supplied for her, and she nodded, hair draping over her shoulders with the motion. “Granny said that the ruins answer to McDuck blood so I…I guess I just took a leap of faith.” He withdrew his hand one she finished, flexing it at the tips of his fingers to make sure that the wound wasn’t going to bleed much more before looking up at her. “I know I rushed but…”

“No, it’s okay.” She stood, placing her hands on her hips before turning her head to look at the chamber where the other two Caballeros were, reaching to touch his shoulder. “We probably wouldn’t have solved the riddle if you hadn’t.” Xandra tilted her head, looking at the spiked walls. “And we definitely wouldn’t have made it out alive.” She pushed him forward and grinning when he looked back at her. “You guys wanted treasure when I first met you. You should join them before they call dibs on everything.”

Donald gave her an uncertain smile before adjusting his flannel shirt, turning to join Panchito and José. Xandra leaned against the wall and watched them greet him with open arms, Panchito grabbing him by the shoulders and planting a kiss on his beak, José leaning against his umbrella wriggling his brows at them and earning a shove from the duck. She had the feeling that Donald’s confidence was almost fully back. One more success and he’d possibly be back to the duck that she’d grown to know over the last six months.

If only it were that easy.


End file.
